There was a new cat in town. A tycoon by the name of Ralph Carrozza, but on the streets he mostly went by Swift. He’d cruise around town in his classic bright red mustang, always playing smooth jazz, always trying to make an impression.  He lived in the heart of the city where the apartments were nicer and held to a higher standard. He had one of those trophy wives, one that looked good to have on your arm at events, but there wasn’t exactly more than that to the old blonde. She probably sported more plastic than Barbie, trying to hold onto the youth of her maiden days that were far behind her. Her lipstick would always be the same red as her husband’s mustang, as if they were not separate beings but came together as a set. He’d slip the young bloods on the street some quick cash for small jobs here and there.  The balding, heavy-set, man wasn’t Patton’s problem, not until he started cutting into Patton’s profits.

Being in the business required logic, it required a sound mind, and a strong base. Swift thought he was sly enough to get some of Patton’s assets under his belt. Swift went for the younger more impressionable bozos that worked for Patton. Flash them the right amount of money and you can almost make anyone do anything. No longer. Even though these kids just ran small jobs it was tipping the scale on what Patton prided himself on. His efficiency. 

Where’s Tony with my suit?

Patton’s right hand man gave him a look as if to say he’d find out where the dunce was. A nicely pressed suit meant that you were well taken care of and that you took your business seriously. Sentinel needed to speak to him on behalf of Dark_King and Patton wasn’t about to present himself in a homely manner. He wanted to have his suit ready 3 days before. He liked to ensure that everything was in place. Patton didn’t like room for error. As he sat at the bar of the restaurant, half a scotch left in his glass, he went through the list he had of things to be done. Rubbing his temples, stressed from the events of the day, his last fuse blew when his right hand came back into the room only to tell him that his suit was still at the cleaners and the boy Tony was seen at an event hosted by Swift and his uptight wife at the club on Jefferson. This is the last fucking time that shit excuse for a man interrupts my business that I work my ass off for! I don’t need to even speak to that silver spooned punk, that’s exactly what my gun is for! Patton was to be feared when he was crossed.

Call the boys; we’re going for a ride.

All the cars met in front of the club, where, through the glass you could see a Christmas party in full swing. Swift in the middle, doing what he always did, flaunting his expenses. His suit a crème color stood out among the reds, greens, and golds. The music was festive and loud. Inside Patton also noticed Francesco and Viotti, two more of his men further down the food chain. Everyone knew Patton wasn’t fond of Swift; it was obvious for his men to steer clear of the man. But a turncoat was a turncoat and everyone knows that a traitor is just another word for a squealer and they basically terminated their own lives.

Take out the snakes, and anyone who stands in the way. No one’s moving up the food chain on my watch. Swift is mine, now let’s crash this party.

Everything happened quickly as his men charged into the club firing at anyone trying to stop them. Civilians ran out screaming, everyone in a state of panic trying to avoid being hit. Patton calmly walked in, as if the sea of people instinctively knew to avoid him. His eyes were glued to Swift’s shocked form still standing in the middle of the club, too scared to move. This was the man trying to cut in on Patton? The one too scared to move? He was obviously not prepared for this lifestyle, the idiot. Patton stood directly in front of him. Gun already loaded and pointed at its target. Patton’s men now knew to get the cars ready to leave the scene quickly as they had taken care of their parts on this job. Swift looked around at the fallen bodies of the men that took his side, and also took notice of the ones who had run. Money doesn’t buy loyalty. Patton had no need for words; his eyes were hollow as the sound of his gunshot echoed throughout the room.

He briskly left the building and walked to the car waiting for him on the street. He got inside and hurriedly the car pulled a U-turn. The boys all took one last look at their work and as they sped by Patton took notice to the bright red mustang engulfed in flames. He smiled towards the boys. Tis the season.